Winds of Change
by Afalstein
Summary: He's not really very different from Alex, really. Same cold eyes, same stern face. But he wasn't always like that, and it pains Tatiana to see him.
1. Braving the Storm

He's not really much different from Alex Row. Same invincible reputation, same black cape, same cold eyes, even the same bored expression as the officers rattle off their commands. It's such a lifeless face, and it pains Tatiana because she remembers when it was so alive.

She remembers when Claus Valka's face glowed with all kinds of life.

"Captain." She says, speaking with all her usual calm. "We are now coming up on the service station, preparing to dock."

He just nods. No response, just like the old captain.

"Attention all hands!" She speaks into the intercom. "We are now docking with Imperial service station ten. We shall remain here for a week while repairs and refitting is conducted. During that time, you will all have leave, but remember that we are at the capital. Please act accordingly."

She hangs up the phone, trying to ignore the cheers she hears echoing around the ship, and follows the captain out the door. "Captain, we must go over the specifications for refitting the _Norkia_." She knows them already, but she wants him to talk. He's been quiet all day.

"Tatiana…." He groans, rubbing his eyes. "Repair the armor. Refit the cannons. Resupply on ammo and fuel, and see if Godwin has anything new for us. It's fairly straightforward."

She hates to do this, but she can't let him get away so easily. "I meant for the funeral procession."

He just glares at her and moves away coldly.

She runs after him. "Captain…"

"I do not care what you do for the Empress' procession." His speech is hard and fast, and Tatiana feels he's lying, but she says nothing. "We are staying here for the funeral, and then we will leave. What _decorations_ we put on for it…" He spits in disgust. "…is of no interest to me. This whole procedure is a waste of time." His gaze rambles over the wall. "What Admiral Mad-Thane was thinking…"

"We didn't have anything really pressing on the frontiers." She shoots back. Every so often he pushes too far, and then she snaps.

He doesn't say anything, and finally mutters, as if to himself. "Anything would be better than attending this damn parade."

"It's for the Empress." She reminds him. "We owe her that much. All the rest of the Silvana will be there." She notices him tense at the name, and exploits it. "The crew should gather for one more reunion. "

"Reunions." He sighs, moving into his quarters. "The more we have, the more I hate them."

He doesn't say why, but he doesn't have to. Every reunion has been a funeral. Each time they see each other, there's always one they don't see.

"Do whatever you want with the decorations." He moves to shut the door. "I'm not leaving until we go

"Claus…" She follows him into his quarters. "Admiral Mad-Thane has renewed his request."

Claus settles into his chair. "Tell him no."

"Sir, we're not doing anything out in the fringes." She frowns at him. "The Admiral is getting old, he'd like to know someone like you was taking over the fleet." She looks away. "And someone needs to help Prince Alexander as he becomes emperor."

Claus doesn't answer, he just sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Frustrated, Tatiana glances around and catches glimpse of a small photo on the desk. She's seen it a hundred times, but it hits her every time she sees it. Hamilcar Valka, George Head, Captain Row and some girl—Tatiana still can't remember who—all perched on an old vanship. In the front, laughing with their fathers, are Claus and… Lavie.

Lavie…

Kneeling, Tatiana sits down in a chair and looks across the table at him. He's not much like the sleepy head who ran aboard to look after a little girl. He's taller now, and stronger. He's still young, too, though his face doesn't look like it. Doesn't exactly wear a cape, it's more one of those new over-coat things.

She's changed too, she supposes. Her hair is a little longer, but still fitting for a ship. She looks tired, her eyes aren't quite so hard and cold as they used to be. Still calm, but not hard. And she wears a more ornate uniform, not the flight-suit she's used to.

They've both changed. But he's changed in ways she never will, and in ways she doesn't want to. So the only thing she can do is try to change him back.

"What exactly do you want from me?" The grunt recalls her to her task, and she glances back. "I'm not going to help with the decorations, I can tell you that much."

She nods, she didn't really expect him to. "The Admiral would like you to make an appearance at the funeral." She answers. "You knew her well aboard the Silvanna, so it's only fitting. And it would be a great inspiration to everyone there."

He grunts noncommittedly.

"Will you do it?"

Sighing, he nods.

Tatiana enjoys a small feeling of triumph. She doesn't get many. "Good." She stands up and straightens her uniform.

"Tell the station…"

"…that you are not onboard, yes sir." She allows a smile to cross her face. "I shall make sure no well-intentioned dignitaries come prowling around looking for you. And I will close off this area, you will have no visitors."

The nod he gives her is almost grateful, and she steps outside. Closing the door, she sighs and leans against it.

Just the same as Alex, really. Fear, guilt, and anger. Except with no one to focus them at. Tatiana isn't sure if it's better or worse. But she hopes he can conquer it, because she really doesn't want to be just like Sophia.

**A/N: ** I really loved this anime, but the ending left me rather dissapointed, as I think it did many people. And none of the fanfictions really expressed what I wanted. So I wrote this thing up. If anyone's confused as to what Tatiana and Claus are doing back on Nestor, or where Lavie is, it will be explained. It's not an alternate Universe, that's all I can say.

Please review. Reviews are good.


	2. Grasping for the Wind

**Grasping for the Wind**

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"Have you thought about your speech yet, Captain?"

He doesn't answer, and it doesn't surprise her. But she keeps on anyway. "The Prime Minister sent word he would be flattered if you delivered the eulogy yourself…"

"Tell him no." He sighs.

"Already did, sir." She smiles a little as he looks up at her, a cocked eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't think you'd be able to write two speeches at once."

He glares at her and slumps back into his chair, but she has a vague feeling that he's grateful. "Anything else you want to bother me with?" He asks.

"Nothing in particular." She remains at the door, quiet, attentive. "The men are behaving themselves as well as can be expected, the arrangements for the ship have mostly been completed, most of the dignitaries have given up trying to find you…"

A slight snicker breaks the silence, and she pauses in surprise. "Sir?"

"Nothing. Please, continue."

She stares a moment before regaining control. "Well… given up trying to find you… and… I have the charts on the new Vanships you requested." She places the file on his desk, doubting he'll even look at it. She's surprised to see a pile of papers, apparently he HAS been working on the speech. "Oh, and Admiral Mad-thane…"

"I told you to tell him no." There's faint irritation in his voice

"I did." She adds some irritation of her own. What kind of schemer does he take her for? "He says he won't take that answer unless you tell him yourself and stop sending your subordinates to take all the flak for you." She glares as he looks at her. "His words. Not mine."

He looks away in annoyance. "Fine. I suppose I'll have to go and talk to him myself then. Prepare a shuttle…"

"All the shuttles are being refitted, I'm afraid." She shakes her head. "For the funeral. If you want to look around, though, I could set aside one of the vanships for your…"

She stops, realizing what she just said.

Claus doesn't fly vanships anymore. Not since Lavie.

It had happened on a random flight, Tatiana knew. Just a simple run at their new home, exploring the mountains, doing turns… Enjoying the sky, like Claus and Lavie always did. And a little storm shouldn't have meant much to them, not to the two who traveled the Grand Stream.

But sometimes even the smallest dangers could catch you off guard.

Claus had left the region, of course. Even left the planet, using something they found on the EXILE ship. Alvis and Tatiana had come along, not so much to pilot as simply make sure he didn't kill himself. Claus took command of a new Silvanna-class airship and went wandering across the frontier. The empress had tried to move him to some easy post near his home, or to a court position where he could live peacefully, but in the end she could only assign Tatiana as XO to keep an eye on him, and hopefully bring him out of his grief.

So much for that idea. She's just reminded him of it all over again, and she can see by the way he's clenching the sides of the chair that he's not feeling any better about it.

There's not much she can say or do. And from the looks of Claus, she guesses there's not much he'd want to hear or see anyway. So as quietly and unobtrusively as possible she starts to open the door so she can leave.

She's nearly there when he speaks, his voice tight and controlled. "I will speak with Admiral Mad-Thane after the funeral, when the shuttles are available." He tells her. "And not before."

She nods and flees the room.

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Yay. Please review. Anime forums aren't visited very often, and consequently the stories aren't reviewed very often. Be one of the chosen few. Review.

(Hah! That rhymes!)

I'm not actually certain if what I'm talking about in terms of the Exile ship is even possible, but I really wanted Claus back on Nestor, and the Exile ship was the only way I could do that.


	3. Cross Winds

**3: Cross Winds**

"And I looked on all my labor, and it was all vanity, and grasping for the wind…"

"That doesn't exactly have anything to do with the funeral."

"That's not my concern."

"I don't think it's fitting, sir." He asked her to come to his cabin, and now she's standing and listening to his speech. She has to confess she's surprised, he doesn't often ask for something like this, but at the same time she's frustrated. It's been a long day for her, and the captain isn't really helping. "You're speaking at Empress Sylvia's funeral. You should be speaking about her, not just your own problems."

He looks at her with surprise. She's probably said too much, but there's not much she can do about that now. She keeps on, trying to keep an even head. "Perhaps you could talk about her courage and sacrifice during the Exile wars. Or about the years you spent under her command. That would be better."

"They just told me to speak at the funeral." He grumbles, tossing the notes onto the table. "They didn't say what I was supposed to speak about."

"Generally, sir," she says, still trying to keep her temper, "speeches at burial ceremonies are about the person being buried. Not about the speaker."

He glares at her but says nothing.

"I'm sure the people would be fully interested in your life, sir. It's interesting enough. But I think you'd best save it for some other time. We're here because Empress Slyvia was our friend and we owe it to her to pay our respects. And we owe it to the people to pass on to them how worthy she was of that respect."

He sighs, and she senses she's getting through. "All that is in the past, Tatiana."

"So? Does that mean we forget it?"

"Ha." He laughs weakly. "As if that's possible."

"The past isn't all bad." She adds hopefully.

He throws her a long, tired look. "That's what makes the present so terrible."

She doesn't have anything to say to that, so she avoids it. "In any case, you should try to say something cheerful or helpful in your speech. For her."

"How can it be for her?" Claus cocks an eyebrow. "She's dead."

Wincing at the bald statement, she tries to speak reasonably. "She would like for her boy to have hope of a future."

"The future!" He snorts suddenly and violently. "The future? Why do I care about that? I'm not going to be here to see it. And what makes you think I could do anything about that, anyway? No one ever really changes the world."

"You… you…" He's really got her going this time. "What do you mean? You helped to change the world! We all did! We found Exile, we stopped the Guild, we…"

"And Exile was a wonderful thing to find." He slumps in his desk. "Took us straight to our paradise, didn't it?"

She closes her eyes. "Sir…"

"And the Guild! Destroyed, are they?" His face turns on her, burning. "Then, tell me who those people in the northern fringes are! Or better, tell me about these nobles at the court! Wonderful people, the lot of them…. Eating food grown on First Water, playing with the lives of their villagers, building new immense warships and plotting against each other… Oh, sure, the Guild is dead."

She doesn't answer. It's true, there are still some elements of the Guild left, and many more nobles who would love to take its place. They've each been building their own private fleets—using materials from the crashed Guild ships. She hasn't said so yet, but that's part of why Admiral Mad-Thane wants Claus to take over. With the death of the Empress, there may very well be a new war.

"_One generation passes away, and another generation comes_," Claus murmurs, as if remembering something. "_but the earth stays forever. The sun also rises, and the sun goes down, and hurries to the place where it arose. The wind goes toward the south, and turns around to the north. The wind whirls about constantly, and comes again on its rotation_." He looks up at her and smiles a ghastly smile. "Sounds just like this place, doesn't it? The Grand Stream—whirling and whirling, and yet always coming back. It's just the same old tale, over and over again."

In her mind, Tatiana hurls curses on whoever told Claus the things he's saying. But she doesn't say anything, because she can't think of anything.

His head slumps back. "_That which has been is what will be, that which is done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun_." He draws a long sigh. "_What profit has a man from all his labor in which he toils under the sun_?"

There is a long, pregnant silence.

Finally Tatiana speaks up. "You know, I seem to recall that Lavie always liked that book." Claus looks up sharply and she knows she's on dangerous ground, but she keeps on nonetheless. "She always liked it because the whole point of it was that there was more to life than what could be found under the sun."

Claus grumbles and slams the desk drawer shut. "Not much good to those of us stuck here, is it? We just have to deal with whatever life throws at us."

"You know captain, you're not the only person who's had to deal with life!"

Her hand flies to her mouth. She didn't mean to say that, and she certainly didn't mean to say it in such angry, snapping manner. But she did say it, and she can't very well unsay it, and now the captain is staring at her. She can't tell if he's shocked or disgusted.

They both know what she's talking about, even if she's never brought it up before and didn't even mention it at the time. But he has to know how Alister's death hurt her.

Alister came back with the two of them as co-pilot. For a time she even served on the _Norkia_. But finally she couldn't put up with Claus anymore, and she left with one of the mechanics—Tatiana can't remember his name, but he used to work on the _Silvanna_—to serve on another airship. Tatiana was sorry to see her leave, but the two kept in touch.

She really should have suspected it when the letters stopped coming. No, she should have suspected it when the airship came back from its trip to Disith and requested more vanship pilots. But accidents happen all the times to rookie pilots, and Alister had been through the Grand Stream so many times, she couldn't have had anything happen to her.

Or shouldn't have. Maybe even wouldn't have, if a gust of wind hadn't ripped away part of the ship and all the vanship pilots who happened to be in there at the time.

She got the news late at night, from one of Alister's old school friends. Fortunately she had the rest of the night to cry things into her pillow so that she should be able to perform her duties as usual. But Claus had found out anyway, a few days later when Empress Sophia sent out the funeral invitations. Empress Sophia always sent out the funeral invitations.

Except for this time, of course.

He had never asked her about it. She had never said anything about it. But now she has, and it's hanging in the air like a balloon, waiting to be popped. But neither wants to, and there's a long silence before the captain finally looks down and starts gathering his papers.

"I need to get ready for the speech tomorrow." He says. "You're dismissed."

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A/N: My word. I am possibly the second laziest person on the planet. This is the closest I have -ever- come to deserting an unfinished story, something I swore I'd never do. Can't really blame it on the reviews--sure there were only a few, but for a LE story that's not bad. Of course, if you gave me more reviews I might be more motivated to write more.

All things considered, I WILL finish this story if it kills me. The next chapter may not be up for a week or so, but I will finish it. You have my word


	4. The Path of the Wind

**The Path of the Wind**

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The wind is whipping around her as the last of the vanships roar overhead, and she tries not to wince. The sound brings back so many memories, some of which she'd rather had stayed where they are. But she's standing in a crowd of lords, ladies, and fleet commanders; and she cannot let them know how nervous she is.

A quick glance shows her where the captain is. He's up at the front, on the left hand of Emperor-to-be Alex. Currently, his royal highness is tugging at something on his coat, and when Admiral Mad-Thane touches him on the shoulder he glares up at the old man. It's natural for him to act this way, this is the first time he's been to a state occasion without his mother. Even so, things are becoming a little strained.

The captain doesn't seem to have noticed. He's been standing there the entire time without a single expression on his face. For the hundredth time, Tatiana wonders what exactly is written on that piece of paper he has in his pocket. He never showed her the final draft, or even really asked for her opinion on it after that one day. Instead, he's spent the week locked up in his cabin without visitors. She supposes that's not really unusual for him, but she still can't help but worry.

He hasn't told her what he plans to do about the position the Admiral offered, either. The day after he read her his first draft, he hired a shuttle and flew over the Admiral's flagship. But what happened and what he said, Tatiana has no idea. He hasn't said anything.

And so, as the final wave of vanships roars overhead and Claus Valca steps forward to the podium, she, like everyone else, holds her breath to hear what he has to say.

"We are all here today in honored memory of Empress Sophia, who has been called the Uniter of Prestor." He looks calmly around at the gathered dignitaries. "It was unquestionably the leadership of Empress Sophia that brought Prestor through its most trying time and brought us to where we are today. And it is fitting that we, the heirs of her legacy, should pause a while to remember her accomplishments. It is the least we can do."

All very well and good. Tatiana lets out a little breath. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

"And yet, this least we can do is also the most we can do." The captain frowns down at his notes. "For who can pretend that ten, or twenty years from now, the world will even remember what has been said here? And who can say completely that after ten or twenty years have passed, the Empress Sophia will still be remembered?"

She freezes. Behind her, there's a little gasp.

"If there is one thing that the Exile wars taught us, it is that we cannot be sure of the future, or even of the present. Everything we know may be torn up in a day, we may be forced to abandon all we ever knew and confront a new, dangerous future. However we may pretend otherwise, our lives are but brief moments, little bits of sand lost in the great hourglass of time. During her life, Empress Sophia was the greatest ruler that either Anatole or Disith have ever known. Yet even her life, great as it was, has ended just as all shall. And who can know whether what she has done will continue into the future?"

More whispers are coming from behind her. "No one can. No one can be certain of these things." Claus looks around the platform, an unutterable sadness in his eyes. "When all is said and done, we have little control over the path of history."

The courtiers are shifting around nervously, there is a great deal of murmuring. Admiral Mad-Thane, his right hand firmly on Alexander's coat, makes no sign.

"As you are all well aware, I was among those who made the first journey to the green world of Exile. I learned many things in that land before I returned. Allow me to share one of them with you…" He flips through his notes. "…a selection from an obscure text of that land."

Tatiana closes her eyes. There is only one text he can be reading from.

"_As you do not know the path of the wind, or know how breath enters the unformed body, so you cannot understand the workings of he who drives the wind, the maker of all things. Sow your seed in the morning, and in the night do not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well_."

She hasn't heard that one before, she realizes.

"The Exile Wars, as I have said, taught us many things. They taught us how quickly a world may change, how easily a life may be lost, how so much can depend on the chance of the wind." He looks around at the platform, which has passed from murmuring to dead silence. "But they also taught us about how little we really know. They taught us that there is always something greater, larger, more powerful than ourselves. That the chance of the wind is not chance at all, but rather a directed plan. Even if we ourselves cannot understand the plan as it unfolds. Even if it causes us pain."

"No one can know whether Empress Sophia will be remembered in twenty years." There's another fresh wave of murmuring. "No one can know what the future holds. But we can know that one way or another, the actions of the Empress will have an impact upon that future. We can know that the things she did and the sacrifices she made will fit into the great plan of history. Even if we ourselves cannot quite see how."

Tatiana is listening. The courtiers behind her are listening. From where she's standing, it looks like even little Alex is listening.

"And this holds true for every man and woman. Even as the Empress has left an indelible mark upon the world, so each one of us shall leave an impression of our own that will affect the future in ways we cannot imagine." Claus takes another long, slow look around the platform. "It remains for us to make that impression, to leave our own legacy even as the Empress has left hers. We must sow the seeds of the future as best we can, trusting that even if our actions do not work how we plan them to, they will work how those beyond us do."

A smile touches his lips. "We may be small grains of sand. We may be caught up in vast winds of change. But it is the driving of the wind that turns small grains of sand into beautiful sweeping dunes."

He steps down, and there's a short silence before Admiral Mad-Thane begins to clap. And then a few others join in. And then some more. Then some more. And before Tatiana quite knows what is going on, the entire platform is erupting in applause.

But she isn't clapping. She's crying, and it's all she can do to hold herself steady.

Because in that smile, she can see it. Claus Valca is back.

**Epilogue**

"Fine job on the speech, if I may say so sir."

"Thank you, Miss XO." He nods. "Now get a shuttle down here before some more of those nobles come over wanting to shake my hand. I've had more than I can stand."

"Shuttles?" She raises an eyebrow. "Sir, if you'd prefer, I can order a car to take you to your hotel, you should be perfectly safe there."

"I need to talk to Mad-Thane." He tugs at his cloak. "He's on board his ship, isn't he?"

"Yes. He's preparing plans for sending off the armada in the morning, I believe. He doesn't' think the fleet should be sitting here for longer than necessary."

"All the more reason for me to talk with him, I can go over the plans with him. Get me a shuttle."

"The shuttles are still flying in the air, sir." She tries not to be curious about why Claus wants to help with the fleet movements. "If you don't mind waiting, I'm sure he'll be down for the ball later this evening."

"No, it's important. And I really should look at those plans with him." He looks up at the airships flying high overhead and heaves a long sigh of frustration. His flaxen hair whips about, dancing in the wind. "Are there any vanships available?"

Tatiana's breath catches. She hardly dares to believe what she just heard, but she doesn't dare ask him to repeat it. "Th… there are… some… vanships… still available, captain."

"Hm." He gives a short nod. "Right then. Signal to him that I'm coming up." He turns around, long cloak swirling in the wind, and stalks toward the hangar. After a few steps, he stops and turns to look at her. "XO!"

"Yes, sir?" She asks.

"I need a navi."

_The End_

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**A/N:**Not that I'm really proud of it, but this probably holds the record for me, in terms of shortest story that takes longest to finish. I must've started writing this a year ago. But one way or another, it IS done, and I stand at my promise of never leaving a story unfinished. I hope you're satisfied... I know this last chapter was pretty overly philosophical. But I did need to give some kind of answer, so there you have it.

Reviews are, as usual, appreciated.


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